


Another Night For the Books

by greekowl87



Series: Tried and True [4]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Early MSR, F/M, Season 3, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:22:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23824513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greekowl87/pseuds/greekowl87
Summary: Scully tries to deal with the guilt and fallout with Missy's death as Mulder takes her out in order to get her talk. Set season 3. Early MSR. UST.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Tried and True [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/961749
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40
Collections: X-Files Angst Fanfic Exchange (2020)





	Another Night For the Books

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Narelle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Narelle), [TabithaJean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TabithaJean/gifts).



> Original prompt: "Scully trying to reconcile her part in Melissa's death (she got distracted by Skinner!). Does she accept responsibility? How does she cope with it, what happens when she leaves work after being collected and professional all day? Does she talk to anyone about it, or act out at all? Or does she internalise it? Does the Clyde Bruckman case impact this at all?"
> 
> A/N: So in my own headcanon, I had developed a series, Tried and True (which is found on ao3), that touch on “Ice,” “Beyond the Sea,” “Lazarus,” and “Little Green Men.” Not smut but I wanted it to show their growing friendship and specific plantonicness as they grow together. I feel like this could be next part in that series so I hope you don’t mind I included in the universe, Narelle :) I make references another fic of mine, “Midnight Blues”

Scully lay awake in bed at midnight. She did a lot of that these nights. She would try to go to bed early but always found herself awake at the same time, the same thoughts playing through her head. Mulder. Melissa’s death. And now recently Clyde Bruckman’s death. Death. Death. Death. Guilt. Anger. Frustration. Disappointment.

In the beginning, she dedicated herself to the x-files and Mulder because of the scientific work. Then it became Mulder. After her abduction, things changed between them. Mulder never mentioned specifically what he went through in her absence but she read her own case file. Something deep down had been affected. Her first case back, dealing with Firewalker and the crazed scientist and carbon-based lifeform, things changed between them. That’s probably when she first noticed his touches, the hand on the small of her back, the caresses. Scully remembered how he caressed her cheek still handcuffed to the poor woman who had just died through the door, Alien style, with the carbon lifeform. 

It was like something changed between them. The planets aligned. Things shifted. A spark alighted. They stared at each other, his hand gently caressing her, her hand still handcuffed, and she knew. He gently unlocked her and took both of her hands, pulling her to her feet. She just knew. He was one that she could always trust; trust no one except him.

Things happen. Things change. What may be started as a crush (he was handsome after all) began to bloom into unrequited love. She would hold her tongue. Scully would not say anything and risk losing what they had. Even if she yearned for more, she had a friendship unlike any other. For now, that friendship meant everything to her.

She cared about him so much that she even shot him to save him from himself.

But that is when everything changed again. Melissa took a bullet meant for her. The guilt of being the only daughter left. She had such a hard time looking at her mother in the eye. How could she face those emotions? She put her partner above family blood. Mulder before her sister. It was...

Scully jumped when the phone rang. She reached for the cordless white phone she had started keeping by her nightstand. 

“Mulder,” she whispered.

“Hey, Scully,” he low tone soothed. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no. I was already awake. I’m guessing you can’t either?”

“No. I can’t sleep much these days.” He chuckled. “You know I have bad insomnia.”

“Sounds like you got what I have.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Are you calling to tell me about a new case?”

“Uh, no. I just, uh, wanted to talk. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.” Scully closed her eyes. “Mulder, tell me a story.”

“What do you want to hear, Scully?”

“Anything. Just tell me a story.”

“Hmmm.” He hummed into the mouthpiece. “Have I ever told you about what a snallygaster is?”

“No,” she whispered. She could feel herself relaxing. “Tell me.”

“Well, when the first colonists came…”

As he spun her his tale, she finally felt herself drifting off to sleep listening to his voice.

. . . . .

That Friday, Scully felt miserable. For some reason, despite being able to get a few hours of sleep, Mulder’s constant prodding to get her to smile. She burrowed her self in autopsy reports as he searched for a new x-file for them.

“You are awfully quiet, Scully,” he remarked across the room.

In the back of the basement office, she sat at the small table near the medical sink. She closed her clunky laptop as if trying to hide something. “Did you say something, Mulder?”

“I just said you’ve been quiet today.”

“Oh.” She shuffled some autopsy files. “I just haven’t been able to sleep.”

“I know. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” 

She looked down at the desk and nodded shortly. Mulder licked his lips, not entirely convinced. “Okay.” He went back to his work. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Once the shorthand hit the five and the big hand twelve, Mulder sighed and tossed the files across the desk. “No travel this week, Scully.”

“I guess I should be thanking you? I have a lot to catch up on. A new article to work on,” she answered.

Scully was already gathering her files. She had avoided his gaze for most of the day. He sighed and gathered his own trench coat, deciding to leave work at the office for once. “Scully, why don’t you leave the work here this weekend? It’s not going anywhere?”

“I need to finish my JAMA article,” she repeated. She still kept avoiding his gaze. “It’s about Bruckman.”

Mulder snorted. Just what he thought. He strode across the office and placed his large hand on her files, stopping her from putting them in her briefcase. “Leave it here, Scully.”

“What’s the point, Mulder?”

“What’s the point if we don’t live?”

“Ironic coming that I give the dead the voice,” she snapped. “Sorry.”

He nodded. “It’s fine. Scully, leave the work alone. Let’s go out tonight.”

“Mulder, I can’t.” She was growing angry. The combination of the lack of sleep, frustration, and internal anxiety was ready to tumble out. “I have stuff to do.”

“Scully, come on. I know a great place. It’s a short walk away. Leave the work.” She closed her eyes and tried to steady her own breath. Her pulse was pounding in her ears. “Let’s go then.”

Scully let Mulder put her files away. She left her briefcase but she made sure she had her purse and phone. He locked their office and they walked together to the elevator. “Really, Mulder, I’m fine.”

She sounded stressed, tired, angry. He was quiet as he hit the button. “Do you want to talk?”

“No.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll pay for us tonight.”

“I don’t want your pity, Mulder.”

“Not pity.”

He guided her down the road a few blocks from the Hoover building. Scully stopped, feeling uncomfortable. Mulder gently placed his hand on the small of her back like he always did. Either guiding her through a crime scene and now, a dimly lit bar, he was always there. Going out with him after work on a Friday night felt wrong. Everything bothered her these days.

Mulder guided her to a small booth in the back and whispered in her ear. “It’s fine,” he whispered as if reading her thoughts, “I used to come here all the time when I was in VCU. You need a night out. A break to say.”

“The crowd is unique.” Memories were conjured up from high school. While she was still a science nerd, as Missy liked to remind her, she had dyed her hair blue amongst her red and stolen her dad’s cigarettes. “It reminds me of high school.”

“Were you Punk back then?”

“Guilty,” Scully smiled.

“I haven’t...I couldn’t imagine.”

“True.” She smirked. “I dyed parts of my hair blue.” 

The crowd was loud and bothersome. She shivered and Mulder wrapped his arm firmly around her waist. “Scully, cheer up,” Mulder tried to smile. “Tonight is on me. I told you I got this.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m really up for this. I should get going and go home.”

His guiding arm around his waist tightened. She tensed; this was all wrong, wrong, wrong. “You aren’t getting out of this that easily. Come on, trust me. Whenever have I steered you wrong?”

“You’re terrible with directions.”

He just laughed. Never before, outside of his nocturnal phone calls, had they tried to socialize outside of work. Scully felt her anxiety spike. Not like this anyways. This seemed to be uncharted waters. She needed to run, to escape. But at the same time, she imagined herself as something different. She tried to picture herself as one of the Old World sailors discovering the New World. Her dad would have been proud. God, give her strength. But this was her partner..whatever feelings she had...had to put aside. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to breathe, Scully. Not since all that crazy shit.” He touched his shoulder instinctively where she had shot him. “We’re going to be okay, right?”

We. She blinked. “Of course.” In the back of her mind, Scully tried to rationalize that this was why she decided to stay with him over the news of her sister. The guilt. Over what? Melissa. Her mother’s grief. Her’s. It should have been her bullet. Hers! “I’m sorry I haven’t been myself lately.”

“What are you talking about?”

With his long arm, he waved for a server. “Mulder, you really don’t have to do this.” She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Scully, I want to.”

She shook her head and put her face in her hands. Mulder gently squeezed her shoulder. “Tell me what you want. I got this tonight.”

Scully thought. “I have to drive.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drive you home.”

She bit her tongue. Let loose, she thought. It rarely happens. “Double rum and diet, no lime. Tall glass.”

“Feeling a bit of the pirate in you?”

“I don’t want to feel,” she confessed without thinking. Scully closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. “I am so tired of feeling, Mulder.”

Mulder ordered her drink and a beer and shot of tequila for himself. There was an awkward silence between them. In the background, a Pearl Jam cover group played on. Scully watched him nod, thinking, and stare off into the distance. “Talk to me, Scully.”

She's recognized that look. She felt weak with that look.

“I don’t know where to begin.”

“Then why don’t we just enjoy the moment, huh? When was the last time you went out on a Friday night?”

“Right after you found me mysteriously in that bar after my dad and Jack’s death.”

He nodded. “You were kind of in the same mindset that night too.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He held up his hands defensively. “You always hold your emotions close to your chest. Sometimes, I feel I don’t even know Scully.”

“I didn’t want to feel. Even though I’m a pathologist, it is tough when it is close to home.” She wanted to confess everything to him but she bit her tongue until she tasted blood. “I’m fine.”

Mulder was quiet and nodded. The server came back with their drinks. Scully took the glass and sipped it slowly. Over the sweetened soda, she could taste the hints of the bottom shelf liquor. Mulder pulled back his shot and took his beer instead. “You’re talking about Melissa. Your sister.”

It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement.

“It was our last case that brought the feelings out,” she admitted. She stirred the drink as the ice clinked against the sides. “I don’t know. What Bruckman told me. It’s unsettling.”

“That you won’t ever die and I’ll die choking myself to death during masturbation?” He laughed. “It’s bullshit.”

Was it really? How much had they lost? Could she lose Mulder too and not even know it? He smiled as he sipped her beer and she felt some sort of reassurance. “I know. That won’t happen, Mulder.” She laughed and Mulder smiled. “I won’t let it.”

“That’s questionable, Scully.” He watched her turn sour. “If you are so convinced that I won’t die that way, why do you believe what Bruckman told you?”

Scully expertly kept mum. “I guess it’s because it hit close to home. “ She sighed and sipped her drink. “Are you hungry? I’m hungry.”

“I come here often. They have a cheesesteak to die for.”

“Go half with me? Onion rings? Extra ketchup?”

“Anything you want, Scully.”

Mulder quickly ordered their food and an extra order of cheese sticks. Scully complained to him about eating healthy, but Mulder remembered the one and only other time they had been out together, she ate mozzarella sticks. She sipped her drink and whispered, “I want to breathe again. I just want to feel normal again.”

He had heard her. Over the music, Mulder took her hand and squeezed. Just like when Missy died. Then his hug...he hugged her then too. This time, he just squeezed her shoulders. Not a hug. Just a squeeze of the shoulders. Scully cringed inwards. Her own entire body curling inwards into herself out of embarrassment. “I should go,” Scully slurred. Damn it, she drank too much. She tried to get up and gather her things. Mulder stopped her. “I’m okay!”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She tried to pull away but gave up mid struggle to get her stuff. She sat next to him. “I’m fine, Mulder. I can take a cab and go home.”

Mulder sighed, unconvinced by her answer. “Scully, you know I didn’t get my fancy Oxford degree for nothing.” Scully refused to meet his eye. “Scully. Talk to me.” After another moment, above the dim of the cover band, he whispered, “You can’t sleep, can you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You always answer my calls.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Mulder shrugged. “Not everyone does but you.”

Scully drank her rum and coke. She closed her eyes trying to block out the music and the sudden wave of emotion. She kept thinking of her sister, the unfairness of the world, and Bruckman’s prophecy...she doesn’t die. It was all unfair. She hid her face in her hand. She was used to be in control of her emotions but now…

“Scully.”

“I’m fine.” She choked. “I’m okay.”

She finished her drink in one gulp and Mulder arched his eyebrows, impressed. “Daughter of a sailor indeed.”

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be, Scully.”

He smiled at her. It was the same smile he gave her after a long case. It was the same smile he gave her when she returned from her abduction. It was the pity smile. “I should go,” Scully said suddenly. “I need to go.”

She finished her drink in one gulp and moved to leave the table. Mulder caught her hand. “Stay,” he commanded gently. He held her hand like he did when Missy died. He held her hand when there was nothing else but her. She choked back a sob. She squeezed it in acknowledgment. “You are still buying all of our food and drinks.”

“You got last time. I got you.” I got you. He emphasized each word. She flinched. Missy flashed through her mind. Then Clyde Bruckman. Why did she live and her sister die? Missy was her mom’s girl; she was Ahab’s Starbucks. “What is it?”

“It should’ve been me, Mulder. Missy’s bullet was meant for me and it should have been me. I can’t look mom in the eye. After the Bruckman case...I asked him when I would die. He said I don’t. What am I supposed to do?” Tears were threatening. “Sorry.” She grabbed the used cocktail napkins and dabbed her eyes. “I’m okay.”

“It does not sound like it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Scully.” He waved the waitress over and she nodded, seeing Scully’s empty glass. “Come on, Scully. Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid. I mean, Mulder, outside of our cases...we’ve never done this.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Talk to me. You trust me right?”

He took her right hand and squeezed it. She closed her eyes and cringed. “You’re one of the few I trust.”

“Few?” Mulder smirked. He drowned the shot. “Who am I competing with?”

“My mother and priest.” 

Mulder laughed and squeezed her hand. “We’re okay. We’ll be okay, Scully. Talk to me. I mean your crackpot partner knows something or two about psychology.”

She thumbed his left shoulder, feeling the grazed wound even beneath the Italian fabric. “Not everything.”

“You saved me.”

He took her hand and kissed her knuckles before giving her a goofy smile. Her heart fluttered before she realized he was joking as her friend. “I didn’t save you, Mulder.”

“You did. We save each other. That’s what partners and friends do.” He nudged her and she smiled. The waitress delivered his drink and Mulder motioned for another shot. The waitress smiled and went to get his drink. “We deserve two toasts, Scully. Three really.”

“Three?”

“Give me a sec and I’ll explain.”

“Mulder. I really shouldn’t be here.” Her head was already starting to feel warm. “Mulder?”

He grabbed her hand again. “I got you.”

She closed her eyes and felt tears. Why was she crying? She closed her eyes. She shook her head. Damn alcohol. This is why she didn’t drink. She didn’t like where it lead her. “I can’t.”

The waitress delivered another double rum and coke. Shit.

“Can we get two glasses of water, an order of mozzarella sticks, and onion rings?” Mulder asked. His hand didn’t leave hers. “Oh, and is the band taking requests.”

“I can check,” the server smiled. She seemed uncomfortable with Scully hiding her face. “Any requests?”

“Just let me know if they are taking requests.”

”I can do that,” she smiled.

“Mulder, you don’t have to do this. I can go home.” She was trying to keep herself from crying. “I’m okay.”

“No, stop trying to bail on me” He squeezed her hand. “You can stay right here with me. Then I’ll take you home”

“I can’t.”

“You just got a new drink.”

She sighed. “Fine. One more drink.”

He rubbed her arm quickly and smiled. “I got us food.” 

“I heard.” She grabbed her drink to sip on it. The alcohol was already buzzing in her blood. “Grease? As your doctor, I’d advise against it.”

“The cheese sticks are all yours.”

“You are terrible at bribery.”

“You’re still here. And I know you love cheese sticks.”

“I do.” She begrudgingly took one and dipped it into the marinara sauce. “Thank you.”

“You are always much friendlier when you eat.”

She smacked his arm gently and he feigned fake hurt. Mulder smiled as she rolled her eyes. “You’re too much.” She paused. “But thank you.”

Mulder chuckled over the band. She closed her eyes and listened to the music. It reminded Scully of her early college years and she swayed slightly with the rhythm. “You relaxing?”

“Hm?”

“I can tell you haven’t been sleeping,” Mulder observed. He sipped his beer. “You want to tell me about it?”

“And you’re basing that off?”

“My brilliant deductive skills.”

Scully sighed and stirred her drink. “Would you call us friends, Mulder?”

“I would hope so. My best friend...if that means anything. I trust you more than anything.”

“It means a lot.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “It really means a lot.”

Scully stared into her drink and Mulder reached his long arm across to grab one of her cheese sticks. A part of her felt relieved; at least that part of her insecurity was confirmed. He watched her. “So, you want to talk and tell me? Aside from you being fine.”

“I have trouble sleeping at night these days,” she confessed. In a rare moment, let down her walls and let him in. “There’s just so much on my mind. I don’t know where to start.”

“Start somewhere.”

She sipped her drink slowly. “Missy.”

Mulder breathed deeply and nodded. “I’m sorry about that…”

“I am not sorry for being there for you, with you. I’m not.” She took a deep breath and felt tears pricking her eyes. She wiped them with her sleeve. “This is so unlike me.”

“Scully…”

“Please let me talk. I have no one else to tell it to. I can’t even look my mother in the eye. I felt…” She shook her head. “I feel like I betrayed her, Missy. But the funny thing is, it felt right being there with you...saving your life, discovering those catalogs, another link to the people who abducted me. I feel so conflicted. But you also never gave up on me during my abduction. My mom told me so. She was ready with a headstone and everything but you never gave up on me.”

At this point, Mulder tried to get a word in but she held up her hand.

“But I feel like I gave up on my sister. My mother. But I felt my place was with you.” She sighed and sipped more of the rum drink. “That is why I stayed with you. I was meant to be there with you. I don’t believe in fate, Mulder but I do believe things happen at the right time. I don’t know how to process it.”

“That’s fate, Scully.”

“Shut up, Mulder.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I still feel like that bullet was meant for me. I was supposed to die. Then our last case.”

“The Bruckman case.”

“I should’ve died instead of Missy.” Mulder steeled his jaw, his gut clenching at the thought of no Scully. “Yeah. Did you know what he told me? I asked him, out of curiosity, when do I die? Do you know what he told me? ‘You don’t,’ he said.” She smirked. Maybe it really was the alcohol. “I don’t die. I don’t fucking die.” She slammed her hand on the table as the tears worsened. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay.” Mulder squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry with me, Scully. You've done nothing wrong.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

“You know, when we first met,” he began, lounging back in the booth, “I didn’t know what to make of you.”

“You thought I was a spy,” she giggled.

Mulder smiled. It reminded him of the night in the graveyard, the rain, her laughter, and the fact he had found someone who actually believed him rather than mock him. That’s why he made the decision to trust her and he never regretted it. “But you proved me wrong. You’re the only one I trust, Scully.”

She smiled and nodded. Mulder squeezed her hand again. “The last time we were out it was when?”

“When I found you in the dive bar after Jack’s death.”

She nodded. “You gave me a pity party that night.”

“It started out like that but do you remember what I said to you? I hope you considered me your friend.”

“You took me home.”

“I did.”

“We are friends, best friends. Partners.”

“Best friends,” he smiled. “That’s something I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“Well, I hope.”

“You hoped right. Can we stay here one more round?” She relaxed and leaned against his shoulder. She sighed sleepily. “And listen to the music?”

“Whatever you want.”

“You know, I think I’ve been here before. Missy and I came here while I was still in medical school. I went to John Hopkins you know.”

“I know,” he said. Mulder leaned back into the booth and sipped his beer. “Tell me about that night, Scully. I only met your sister a handful of times when you were returned from your abduction.”

She arched her eyebrow in surprise. 

“You two seemed to be complete opposites.”

“We were but, growing up,” she smiled in the memory, “in high school, I was considered the geek. Before she graduated high school...she was a year ahead of me...she laid the groundwork for my first boyfriend Marcus and helped me lose my virginity.”

She chuckled at the memory. “But she went a small liberal art’s college and I went to University of Maryland and did physics.”

“And rewrote Einstein.”

She snorted into her drink. “Missy majored in...god, what was it?” She paused. “How could I forget?”

“Must be the rum, pirate doctor.”

She smiled at his teasing. “Oh yes! She majored in literature. That is how she kind of became that wildflower child. Crystals. Mythical...I mean mystical energy. So after she graduated, she backpacked Europe. And then, the traveling started. Mom and Dad, Bill Jr., Charlie, nor me never knew where she was. Sometimes, she’d air, poof! We got letters, postcards. One Christmas,” she paused. Tears were in her eyes. “The one right before I went to the FBI academy.”

“What happened?”

“I was recruited out of medical school. Dad was upset. He paid for me to practice medicine, not deal with the dead. But Missy told me that...gosh, I can’t really remember. Something to the effect of fate has a way of leading us where we need to be. God, it must be the alcohol.” She smiled goofily and squeezed his hand. “I’d say she was right.”

Mulder chuckled. “Maybe you should slow down?”

“It’s Friday. You’re not going to let anything happen to me right?”

Mulder smiled and shook his head. “Never. I got your back, partner.”

“Would you go as far as to call us friends?” She was already repeating herself. He smiled. “Mulder?”

“We’ve just had this conversation but, yes, I hope so; my best friend if that counts?”

“Even more than the Gunmen?”

“Even more than the Gunmen. Scully, eat some food.”

“I want another drink.”

“Don’t hate me in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Drunk Scully was a fun Scully. She gave a smile. “Best friend.”

Mulder chuckled and raised his hand. He had seen her playful side come out over the past two years but he made a mental note to try to bring out this playful side more often. “Melissa Scully must've been some sort of Scully. You’re still my favorite though.”

“You should’ve met my dad. He would have liked you. And you still have yet to meet my brothers, especially Bill Jr.”

It was coming now. The urge she fought to repress for months. Scully sighed into her drink and stated, “I blame myself for Missy’s death, Mulder. I should have been there. I should have called her. Warned her. I should have been there, being a doctor, trying to save her.”

He watched tears stream down her cheeks. “I understand the guilt.”

“I feel like I’m repeating myself.”

“It’s okay.”

“I haven’t slept in months because of this guilt, Mulder. I can’t sleep. I can’t look my mother in her eye without some sort of feeling of being accomplice to Missy’s death.”

Mulder’s tongue licked his lips and he resisted using her first name. “Scully, look at me.” She shook her head and he cupped her cheek. “Your sister’s death wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was mine.”

She shook her head more violently. “No! No. I won’t abandon you. It isn’t your fault, Mulder. None of this is your fault.” Was this alcohol talking? “We’ve both lost our sister.”

He hugged her like he did in the empty hospital room. “So we fight.”

She nodded against her shoulder. “We fight.” After a moment, she whispered, “Thank you, Mulder.”

They detangled themselves. Mulder smiled. “We should do this more often.”

Scully sniffed, trying to feel somewhat lighter. “What? Get drunk?”

“No. Hangout outside of work and our cases.”

“I let you call me in the middle of the night.”

“I propose a new tradition, Scully. If we don’t have a case that weekend, we go out on Friday nights for a drink and decompressing.. What do you think?”

The server brought Scully another drink. She inspected the tall rum and coke critically as she would evidence during one of her autopsies. “As your doctor, I strongly advocate for after-work social activities.”

Mulder grinned. She sipped her drink. “So what’s bothering you, Scully? You’re unable to sleep; you’ve mentioned it plenty of times. Talk to me, as your personal psychologist of course.”

She chuckled. “I handle the bodies and you handle the minds.”

“Hasn’t failed us yet,” he encouraged.

“It was our last case. The Bruckman case. I asked, out of sheer curiosity, when do I die? His reply? I don’t know how to take it.”

Mulder sighed and bit his lip. “When you came back, your sister came to visit me. She knocked my sense into my ass. I thought about killing myself that night. I couldn’t do it. I thought of you. So I went to yours bed. I held your hand and I told you, you’ve always had the strength of your beliefs and I don’t know if me being there would help. But you would know. I’m here, Scully and I always be here for you.” He took her hand again. “I slept at your bedside many nights but I want you to know, again and again, I will always be here for you.”

“I remember hearing your voice. You didn’t want me to go, so I didn’t.” Scully looked away and he forced her to look at him. She feigned a smile. “Mulder.”

“I’m here for you now. Talk to me. I won’t let you down.”

Her eyes had tears again and he wiped them gently away. He hugged her against him just like he did the night she came to Missy’s empty bed. “Let’s do a toast, Scully.”

“To what?”

“Everything.” He raised his beer bottle and she raised her glass. Her tears stained his shirt. “It’s okay.” He smiled as she chuckled through her tears. “To us, to our sisters, to our fathers, and back again to us. We can do this, Scully. You’ll always have me in your corner. You’ve done it for me more times than I can count.”

She hid her face into his shirt. “I’m sorry for shooting you.”

He laughed. She relaxed. When was the last time she had fun? “That’s the least of my worries. Finish your drink, enjoy the music. After this, we’ll get you home.”

* * * * * 

In the early morning of Georgetown, it had been raining. The air was humid with the smell of rain on concrete. Scully sat next to him in the cab as it took her back to the apartment. “This seems so familiar,” she whispered in a sigh.

The cab stopped. “I took you home last time,” he murmured. “Just like this.”

“I can walk.”

“I know you can. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” He wrapped his long arm around her waist. “I had a roommate at Oxford. Broke his right ankle and left knee when he was drunk...not at the same time but it could happen.”

Her head lolled to his chest. “You didn’t have to do this tonight, Mulder.”

“Hey, what did we establish? Partners. Best friends. I got you, Scully. I’ll always be there for you.”

She leaned against his arm as he opened her building’s door and sighed contentedly. “Thank you, Mulder.”

He smiled and whispered, “Go ahead and pass out.”

“Not going to pass out,” she murmured. “Wasn’t sleeping.”

Mulder smiled. Yes, she was. “You okay?”

“You wanna make sure I don’t break a bone, partner?” Her words were slurred. The drinks were hitting full force now. “Mulder?”

“I got you.”

“You know, it’s okay to say you need help,” she murmured.

“I can say the same for you.” Mulder fumbled with her key and pushed the door open. She fumbled with her light switch. “I’m so used to being alone, Mulder.”

Drunk Scully was a talkative Scully. 

“I blame myself for Missy’s death, Bruckman’s case made it worse.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Did I?” She drunkenly tossed her jackets onto her plump couch. He looked away. “Fuck, Mulder. Where are my keys?”

“I got everything. I will put them on your table. Do you need help?”

She was already stumbling through her bedroom. “I’m okay!” He bit his tongue. He heard her changing into some clothes. “I’m good!”

Mulder pushed his way into her bedroom. She struggled with her covers. He gently pulled them back and she collapsed into the bed and curled up with her back towards him. He pulled the covers over her. “What’s wrong, Scully?”

“It should have been me, Mulder.” She struggled to face him. “I should’ve died instead of Missy.”

“I couldn’t let that happen.”

“I choose you over family.” Mulder bent his head and brushed a stray hair from her face. “And I would do it again.”

“Scully…”

He bowed his head but she had already passed out. Mulder sighed. His own heart growing heavier as he locked her apartment door as he left.

* * * * * 

Scully’s head was pounding when she answered the phone. She blearily eyed her alarm clock. Noon. Shit. Past noon. Almost twop.m. “Scully,” she answered. She winced. God her head hurt. “Mulder?”

“Hey, how are you feeling, champ?”

“Like hell.”

“You promised you wouldn’t get mad at me.”

“I’m not.” She rolled onto her back in bed. God, her head was killing her. It felt like she sucked a balloon full of helium and she was floating in space. “Mulder.”

“Hm.”

“Thank you for last night.”

She could hear his smile over the phone line. “You’re welcome. And no, you didn’t break any bones.”

She laughed into the receiver. “So, despite my raging hangover, are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Like work-wise?”

“No. I may have been drunk but I didn’t blackout. I was wondering if you wanted to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s tonight with me? I rented it from Blockbuster. I was going to cook something but I can do takeout.” She paused. Her headache was raging and her stomach was flipping. “Grease. I want something with grease?”

“You do. Best cure for a hangover.” Mulder snorted. “Are you inviting me for a date, Agent Scully?”

“No. I want to get to know my partner and best friend more. I want to hang out. Pizza? I’ll pay for it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll pick up the pizza.” He paused. “Are you feeling better? After our talk last night?”

She closed her eyes. The sun burned and her head was still swimming. The talk. Missy. Her guilt. She took a deep breath and whispered, “I haven’t been able to talk about that for months without feeling guilty. Mom misses her. I miss her. But I still feel like I have blood on my hands.”

Mulder hummed. She could hear him shifting his phone. “When you were returned from your abduction, I met her with her crystals and hands outstretched. She told me that I didn’t like to be called Fox. That was only something you would know.” He took a deep breath. “I hadn’t been introduced until your mom came up and said, ‘Hi, Melissa.’ She responded, ‘Hi, mom.’ And I’m like, you’re Scully’s sister.”

Scully closed her eyes and listened to his voice.

“She told me to be open. You could feel my presence.”

“I did. I felt you. I saw myself out on a little rowboat with a rope attached to a dock...I guess I metaphor for barely hanging on. But I saw you in the god awful turtle neck with Nurse Owens.”

“Who’s Nurse Owens?”

Scully felt embarrassed. “No one. But I saw and felt you...many times. When you came to visit me, I knew you were there. I felt you.” She chuckled. “You must think I’m crazy.”

Mulder sighed, contented. “Not at all, Scully. Your sister was one hell of a person.”

“She was.” Scully twisted onto her side. “So, you coming over tonight or not?”

“What pizza do you want?”

She smiled into the phone. “Hawaiian.”

“Scully, pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza.”

“It does. Please?”

“I’ll get a Scully pizza and a Mulder pizza.”

“Full of meat.”

He laughed. “I’ll be there by seven. Don’t start your VCR without me.”

He hung up. Scully smirked and put her handset on her nightstand. She felt lighter. The death of her sister weighed so heavily on her but now, maybe there was some hope. Maybe Mulder could help her get there.


End file.
